


Justice Has Prevailed?

by Sharyrazade



Series: Children of Men - Fallen PT AU [2]
Category: Persona 5, Persona Series
Genre: Angst, Depression, Fallen Heroes, Gen, Guilt, Implied/Referenced Terrorism, Jealousy, Passive-Aggressive Makoto, Police Brutality, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Self-Esteem Issues, Torture, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Unrequited Crush, Workplace
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-12
Updated: 2017-10-12
Packaged: 2019-01-15 03:49:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12313185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sharyrazade/pseuds/Sharyrazade
Summary: Playing both sides of the law, Makoto still wrestles with doubts about her "justice," recognizing that she may have more in common with her sister than she'd care to admit.





	Justice Has Prevailed?

"For the hundredth time!" plead the detainee, instinctively wiggling in his chair in some vain hope of escape. "I've never heard of any Shen in my life!"

Its owner glaring mercilessly through the one-way mirror, a voice addressed the poor bastard under interrogation.  _"Do you have children, Mr. Kagemusha?"_ inquired Makoto icily.

"No, but- what's that got to do with anything?"

_"Well, if you'd like that to change in the future, I'd strongly suggest telling us what we'd like to know. I assure you, I can be much nastier than this."_

Her sunglasses-clad subordinate turned to the inspector, the spectacles obscuring his doubts about their exact procedure. "Well, ma'am," he began. "are we doing this or some other method?"

Makoto scoffed harshly. "You of all people getting soft on me, Izuki?" she inquired. "Exactly as we discussed earlier."

"Understood. Any particular stipulations?"

"No, I'm sure you can handle it. Besides, I need a break; it feels like I've been at this all night."

 

Leaving that poor slob Kagemusha and his testicular torment in the very capable hands (and misappropriated automotive batteries) of her subordinates, Makoto retired to the floor's kitchenette, the electricity crackling and the suspect's tortured screams as much background noise as the din of traffic as far as she was concerned. Sooner or later, they always talked. Usually. And why not? With the spectacle of whispers and rumors of nepotism hanging over the head of her career as one of the Tokyo Metropolitan Police's most decorated investigators, the pressure to perform from both the public and (by extension) her superiors was constant. Indeed, it was rather fortunate that said superiors were not especially concerned with the methods employed; only the results. Ironically enough, both of her inspirations for going into the field had either the sense and/or luck to get out of this life, one of them killed in the line of duty, the other following her recently-found dreams of becoming a lounge singer of some renown.

Opening the machine, Makoto managed a weak smile, seeing as her designated shelf had remained more or less unmolested. It seemed rank did have its privileges after all. Placing her dinner in the microwave oven (an increasingly common sight these days), the inspector, like most of her generation, occupied the minutes consumed by the appliance's monotonous hum with the updates from her phone's feed; Yusuke having another appearance at an American gallery, Morgana asking her once again if she was free Friday night (why he didn't just contact one of his sluts- er, lady friends, was a mystery, she thought irritably) Futaba sending assorted ancient Egypt-related material and assorted memes, Ryuji sending stupid memes, Haru requesting they get together for old times' sake, just the two of them, nothing out of the ordinary.

Shortly reaching the part of the feed she had been looking forward to the least, Makoto sighed in exasperation as she dismissed the photos of her two teammates reveling in celebration of the blonde's steadily-proceeding pregnancy. While she'd never be able to bring herself to cast a vote for the man or his party given what they knew about him, she was becoming convinced that the prime minister's vision of the country as a ship wasn't unreasonable; after all, as far as her social circle was concerned, everyone seemed to be pairing off like it was the fucking ark anyway, she herself some kind of terminally-endangered species with one member.

Sae and her girlfriend, Yusuke and Hifumi, she was happy for them, she truly was, Makoto told herself. As far as she was concerned, Ryuji and Futaba weren't fooling anyone with their platonic, heterosexual-life-partners routine either; In mysteriously trying to offload one of Leblanc's tables on her for next to nothing a few years ago, Sojiro let slip about how Ryuji had "defiled" the surface- along with Futaba on top of it. As serious a woman as she was, Makoto could still manage a smile when recalling the incident.

Finally, as happy for them as she claimed to be and told herself she was, the frequent digital reminders of the thieves' leader and his right-hand woman engaging in gratuitous displays of affection stoked a particular fire inside of her Makoto scarcely recognized existed, the pregnancy announcement rubbing salt in that particular wound, making the totality of her "defeat" somehow real- somehow permanent. Granted, ever since the Kamoshida incident, Ann and Akira had always been close; everyone knew that and she loved the woman like a sister. But on some semi-conscious level or another, just when she had come to terms with that roguish, oddly-alluring charm, she'd come just as suddenly to resent the blonde for that incident after Shiho's visit back to Shujin, where she had pounced on Akira. When asked by Sojiro if something was bothering her after the later incident where she'd caught the couple (Ann more so than Akira) in a compromising position, she simply tersely remarked about how "a blonde succubus just stabbed me in the back," a comment for which she was afforded an out by Ryuji assuming was directed at him and subsequently taking offense.

On some level, she still wondered what she lacked that Ann had, even back in their school days. After all she was, she thought nastily, an ambitious, intelligent honors student, class president from a good family with a better-than-average chance at any prestigious university in the country. And what she was up against?! The one and only reason Makoto had lost was because she was up against a blue-eyed blonde with big tits who could suck a golf ball through-

No, no, that's not (entirely) true, Makoto forced herself to admit. Ann Takamaki was kind, loyal, caring, and beautiful, inside and out. Hell, she'd have married her if she had offered. Truth be told, it was not even so much Akira; it was more her own arrogance than anything else- regarding romantic relationships as a something quantifiable to a series of equations and formulas, a competition more than anything. A competition which she'd always somehow resented having lost to a girl she'd, on some level, looked down upon. She'd never bought it up, true, but men supposedly competed over the affections of a mate as proof of their charisma and masculine virility; why should women be any different in that regard, she wondered.

 

Once again reflecting upon what exactly her purpose was and how she had come to this point, Makoto found herself jerked back to reality upon hearing the telltale, high-pitched pinging from the microwave, not unlike those shrill sirens echoing throughout the scene on that horrible, horrible day a few years ago. Ever since that incident in the depths of Mementos a decade back, she'd noticed something rather...unusual about their cocky, idealistic leader, but assumed it simply to be her overactive imagination. However, that change in worldview, that cynicism and certain disregard for the free will and rights of others began, not unlike a disease of sorts, to gradually take over their companions. Granted, Yusuke and Ann seemed to be affected the least by this shift (while Haru seemed to wrestle with depression more often than not), but some of the statements by Ryuji and Futaba had, especially in the past five years or so, begun to genuinely alarm her, nearly coming to blows with the former a number of times.

That was of course, until the terrorist attack on the Ginza Line a little over three years ago. While not actively assigned to the first responders, simply by virtue of being with the deluged metropolitan police, in the minutes, hours, and days following the carnage, Makoto was constantly assaulted by the horrific sights and sounds of hundreds of the dying and the dead, their bodies riven by all manner of wounds and mutilations, coming to haunt even her dreams. The intensifying nightmares identifying her surviving loved ones, whether related by blood or not, among the casualties, the government's continuing incompetence at destroying the terrorists' networks at home and abroad, and the fact that her superiors more often than not seemed more concerned with covering their own behinds, simply proved too much for even the meticulous, by-the-books detective. She wouldn't let it happen again, she couldn't! Even if she had to seek out the help of the, quite frankly, most terrifying woman she knew and her research into the Metaverse; if it could be used for wanton murder and terrorism, surely it could be used to stop it? To see a target divulge information with which they wouldn't have otherwise parted. After all, like Futaba was fond of saying, only wrongdoers had need for concern, right?

Peeking into the kitchenette, Izuki grimaced, knowing fully well he was interrupting one of his superior's few respites. "Ma'am, about the Ishida interrogation," he began gingerly. "it's largely matching up with Kagemusha's but we've still got some doubts- like he's holding out on us."

Makoto rolled her eyes and sighed tiredly. "So, the method were treating his friend too isn't working?"

"No ma'am."

"Fine, fine. I'll go get it from my office. Such a savage method, though."

**Author's Note:**

> Well, here we are with another member of the Phantom Thieves in this AU!  
> Truth be told, I actually prefer her sister by far, if you get my meaning. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
> 
> Nonetheless, I didn't hate Makoto by any means; she was just one of those characters I just never saw what all the fuss was about. But her quirks and the trajectory of her character development do actually work well in this setting; as you can see, I picture her as being prone to some unconscious resentment (particularly concerning anything that could be interpreted as abandonment) of other women due to her relative social isolation, her mother's early death, and Sae's neglect of her.


End file.
